


Play Ball

by kansas_byrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark!John Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, Drugging Children, Incest, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Rape, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kansas_byrne/pseuds/kansas_byrne
Summary: Ever since Dean was very small, John had always had his son sit on his lap as they watched the World Series. Sometimes he'd hold Dean down and rub against him while they watched the game. Now that he's a teenager, though, that's about to escalate.





	Play Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read or edited.

John loves baseball. He loves it so much that he always makes a break in the constant travelling right at the end  of baseball season, and they’ll rent at a long term hotel, which means there’s a separate room with a kitchenette and a living room. It always feels like a luxury. John is almost loving then, mostly sober and engaged. 

Dean loves it for Sammy, but it’s always right at the end of the World Series that he hates everything to do with this fucking game. It started when he was five, maybe six. His dad would let him sit on his lap, Sammy asleep in the other room. He’d lie back against his dad, half asleep himself. Curtains drawn, the room was dark and quiet. Eventually, his dad’s lap would get uncomfortable and he’d ask Dean to leave, his voice rough, but when he hit nine, his dad changed it up. 

He was too old to sit there any more, but neither of them said anything about it, and Dean wanted it, he was greedy for the attention. As usual, he gradually felt his father get hard underneath him, but this time he started rocking gently against his ass. Dean tried to get off his lap, but John held him there wordlessly. He tried not to cry out in pain from the crushing grip, knowing his dad would be angry. John’s forehead pressed against Dean’s back, his hot breath ragged and gasping, he finally came in his pants. When he was done, he pushed Dean off him and told him to leave, his angry eyes promising mayhem if Dean misbehaved. He ran, and neither of them mentioned it again.Later, he’d find two large purple bruises on his hips.

Every year, the same routine. Dean has even tried not being there, but John has always nixxed his plans with a stern look. Last year, when Dean was thirteen, John even had to smack him to get him to sit on his lap. That year John came with his hand wrapped around Dean’s throat, choking him into near unconsciousness. He had to hide his neck for a few weeks from Sam. His brother knew something was going on, but John had taken to drugging him, giving him a sedative in his food. He’d wake up the next day, groggy and suspicious, but without answers. Dean never gave him any.

This year, after Dean tucks Sam into bed, John beckons to him, and Dean goes without a fight. He’s tired tonight, just relaxed and quiet, and he suspects John’s drugged him a little too. He sits where he’s bid, titled a little to the side so his dad can see the screen. Soon, just as he’s drowsing off, he can feel his father get hard. Dean shifts a little, rocking back and forth. He wants it over with so he can curl up next to Sam and try to forget it.

His father groans, something that sounds like  _ whore _ , grabbing his hips and thrusting a little for a few minutes, until he’s panting. Then he hooks his hands under Dean’s sweatpants and underwear, and starts sliding them down, forcing Dean to stand so he can pull them all the way off his ass. John takes that opportunity to pull his own pants down to his knees, sitting back down bareassed on the hotel chair.

Dean resists, but John is strong, pulling him insistently down back into his lap. His cock slots right between Dean’s asscheeks. Wet with precome, it slides as John picks his rhythm back up, rubbing over his taint and the underside of his balls. He goes slowly, barely moving, but Dean can feel how sticky-slick he’s getting from it all the same.

It’s not even surprising at this point whenJohn pulls him up just a little, the head of his cock nudging against his hole. His voice is low, filled with liquid courage and lust tinged with a promise of violence. “Not a sound, Dean.”

He doesn’t make one. Years of combat training and severe punishment from John for showing any reaction to pain have trained him to take it. But God it just...

It hurts, so much. He feels like he’s being split apart, like John’s cock is massive, too massive to fit. It goes on and on, with John making this long, strangled noise as he pushes and pushes. When he’s finally seated all the way inside his son, he groans hard, hands shaking at Dean’s hips. They sit, Dean suspended in a moment of blinding pain and panic, before John, holding Dean still, begins to fuck him.

In the beginning he tries to make it last, going slow and deep, but it doesn’t take long before he has to just rut, fucking up into him with short staccato thrusts. He growls deranged things into Dean’s ear with whiskey soaked breath until he’s so close that his whole body vibrates with need.

“Once a year….once a year is too long. God, this tight fucking hole...tomorrow you’re gonna learn how to choke on my dick - take it, take it- _ fuck, Dean, yes. _ ”

John comes in a flood, pulling Dean all the way down into his lap until he’s buried to the root, pumping him full. He breathes heavily against Dean’s ear, and then growls “Go clean up, you fucking disgust me.”

Dean pulls himself off his father’s dick, shame making his skin flush and burn. He pulls his pants up awkwardly, and starts stumbling towards the bedroom. He can feel his father’s come slipping out of his ass, soaking the fabric. When he gets to the door, his father calls his name. He doesn’t look around because he’s crying, silently, hoping John doesn’t notice.

“I meant what I said. Tomorrow night I expect you to be here, on your knees, after Sam goes to bed. We’re gonna have a real good time.”

John is as good as his word.

 


End file.
